Instance
by Fireflies on a Lake
Summary: Everything has it's own time and place. Random Female!Obi-wan/Anakin snap-shots.
1. Meal Time

**Instance  
**

 **Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **A/N:** Random Female!Obi-wan/Anakin one-shots. They are all set during the Clone Wars/ROTS timeline. I will indicate in future chapters if any of the one-shots are to be inter-connected.

Hope you guys enjoy!

 **Summary:** Obi-wan merely wishes to eat her meal in peace. Anakin interrupts. Naturally.

* * *

 **Mealtime**

It's nice to be home, even if only for a brief time. After a long and arduous mission, there is nothing quite like gazing upon the distant spires of the Jedi Temple over the Coruscant cityscape, and feeling a sense of peace that can only be elicited by the sight of her childhood dwelling.

Obi-wan shouldn't think this way. The concept of a home by its definition, is a sentimental notion. Home is merely another form of attachment, to a place rather than a person. But it is attachment all the same.

For all her reservations, she can't deny the allure in having some semblance of a permanent residence to return to.

After all it's everything she's ever known.

It's the place where she was raised and reared. Trained and initiated. The temple is the closest thing that she will ever come to calling a home.

Plus there is the added appeal of _solid food_. Even the most battle-hardened of Jedi covets a decent meal after a whole month of subsisting on nothing more than ration bars, and nutritional powdered sachets.

Attachment and gluttony. That's what she's come to. The consequences of eating nothing all day. Funny the type of thoughts a ravenous appetite can invoke.

To Obi-wan the small, green moasa berries, neatly adorning the top left hand corner of her tray seem like the most enticing thing in the galaxy right now.

And nothing will stand in her way. Nothing will prevent her from savouring their juicy, and tantalisingly sweet flavour.

The sound of someone clearing their throat impels her to glance up at the intruder.

She takes it back. _Anakin_ will stand in her way.

"Yes?" she asks.

Anakin stands at the opposite side of the trestle table, balancing his own tray (piled with a ridiculous amount of food) in his hands and looks down at her, amusement written plainly over his face.

"Am I interrupting something?" he teases.

Obi-wan makes a show of keeping her expression deadpan.

"Yes. It's called a meal," she answers curtly.

In typical Anakin fashion, he plops himself down on the bench across from her and places his tray on the table's surface without any invitation from Obi-wan.

She's not surprised by his actions, after all these years she's become completely used to Anakin's displays of uncouth behaviour, and lack of decent table manners. At least their only witnesses are their fellow Jedi, currently partaking in a late night meal within the temples mess hall, and not high-class delegates at a fancy reception.

"Meal times are meant to be shared Master," he tells her impishly.

Obi-wan purses her lips, and scrutinises her unexpected dinner companion.

"When one has received an invitation, and there is a mutual acceptance of _both_ parties, then yes meal times can be shared," she informs him.

Anakin grins. He picks up his eating utensils and digs into his greasy nerf steak, as if to contradict her.

Obi-wan watches him for a few more seconds before scooping up her vegetable stew with her spoon.

"I thought you were in the south-west tower decoding the transmitter codes we attained from that skirmish on Corellia with Master Plo Koon," she says, and raises the spoon to her lips.

Anakin swallows his mouthful of food. "I was, and now I am here," he says, his tone undeniably smug.

Obi-wan's only response is to fill her own mouth full of stew, so she's unable make a witty remark at his expense.

Anakin's blue eyes shine with mirth. There's a mischievous glint in his eye that she doesn't like.

Before she can ask him what he's up to, Anakin's mechanical hand shoots out, quick as lightening, and steals a handful of green moasa berries from her tray. He pops them into his mouth, and chews before she can protest.

Obi-wan frowns. "Anakin is there a reason why you are eating the food off my tray, and not your own?"

Once he's gobbled down _her_ moasa berries, he fixes her with an innocent look.

"Why I'm just helping you out Master, a woman as tiny as you could never fit all that food in you," Anakin says playfully.

Obi-wan taps the fingers of her unoccupied hand against surface of the table. "Is that so?"

Without warning, she strikes. Obi-wan reaches out towards Anakin's tray, scoops up a spoonful of mashed sema beets, places it into her mouth and swallows. It leaves a sour taste on her tongue, but she's had worse before. A Jedi should be grateful for any form of sustenance.

"Hey!" Anakin protests.

Obi-wan shrugs. "You always did complain whenever they served Sema beets," she says off-handily.

Anakin snorts. "And you always lectured me whenever I refused to eat them," he counters.

Obi-wan waves a hand dismissively. "All in the past."

Anakin gives her a fleeting, strange look, before he sighs and prods his food. While Anakin's mulling over his tray, Obi-wan decides to enjoy her remaining moasa berries, before Anakin can consume them.

When she looks up again, she finds Anakin is favouring her with an unabatedly rueful smile. Obi-wan shifts in her seat uneasily.

"What?" she asks.

"You still love those moasa berries," he says in wonderment.

"No I find their taste favourable that is all," she corrects. It was a pathetic Jedi Master indeed who formed an attachment to their food.

Anakin's lips tilt upwards into a smirk. "Well then..." he slowly inches his hand over the length of the table, "You won't mind if I share some of those moasa berries"

Obi-wan, knowing fully what he intends to do, immediately clamps her comparatively smaller hand over his large gloved one.

"Don't," she warns.

Anakin laughs and retracts his hand. She shakes her head good-naturedly. Meal times with her former padawan are always lively to say the least. Having Anakin around keeps things interesting.

If she's honest she doesn't mind the company-not that she would necessarily _tell_ Anakin that. By the stars, Anakin's ego is already large enough as it is. He doesn't need any more encouragement from her, or anyone else for that matter.

Maybe there is merit to what Anakin said. Perhaps, meal times are meant to be shared.

Glancing up from her bowl of stew, she notes Anakin devouring his nerf steak with a single-minded determination, and resists the temptation to lecture him on his lack of decorum.

Yes, now that she considers it, perhaps mealtimes are meant to be shared. On the rare occasion.


	2. Maintenance Repairs

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **A/N:** just wanted to say thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, favourited or followed my fics. you guys are all legends!

 **Summary:** Ahsoka is the sole witness of Obi-wan's one-way debate with her star-fighter, and Anakin just loves to prove himself right.

* * *

 **Maintenance Repairs**

Master Kenobi, Ahsoka has quickly come to realise, is the only person she knows aside from Master Skywalker who is crazy enough to engage in a discussion with their own star-fighter.

She watches, with barely veiled amusement, as the legendary acclaimed Master Kenobi wrestles with the tangle of wires in her hands, and vexingly spouts phrases that are better suited to a smugglers den, than a Republican military cruiser.

Ahsoka has situated herself on the left wing of Master Kenobi's star-fighter. She'd requested the woman's help in learning the basics of ship maintenance repairs, and Master Kenobi had been more than willing to oblige, no doubt all too familiar with Master Skywalker's unorthodox affection for anything mechanical. The little padawan had initially wanted to put all the theory she knew into practice, but Master Skywalker had always proven to be too impatient when it came to teaching mechanics. Therefore she'd jumped at the opportunity to learn firsthand from Master Kenobi, a more patient teacher than Skyguy could ever be.

It had only taken the first ten minutes of observing Master Kenobi working on maintenance repairs, for Ahsoka to conclude that it had all been one big mistake.

Maintenance repairs are not exactly Master Kenobi's forte.

Ahsoka's spent the last half hour being privy to the woman's heated one-way debate with the inanimate machinery.

She's learning a lot about language at least. The Jedi Master has unintentionally taught Ahsoka to swear in twenty different languages. Never say that Master Kenobi isn't enlightened.

Master Kenobi curses under breath, tosses the wires onto the durasteel floor of the hangar bay and rises from the crate on which she'd previously been seated.

She approaches her star-fighter, and places a hand into a crevice under the wing, from where the wires have been dislodged.

"Ahsoka, do you mind passing me the hydro-spanner please?" she asks, not even looking up at the little togruta.

It takes everything in Ahsoka not to laugh at Master Kenobi's dishevelled appearance. The strands of her auburn hair sticks up in all directions like a Wakka bird and her cheeks are flushed. But the most funniest thing of all is the way in which Master Kenobi pretends to take no notice of how disorderly she looks.

Never say that Master Kenobi isn't determined.

Ahsoka locates the hydro-spanner in the toolbox and passes it down to the Jedi Master, who extends her hand up without deterring her gaze from the crevice she's inspecting.

As Master Kenobi tinkers with the various nuts and bolts within the crevice, her eyebrows furrow in concentration. She prises a grey, rusted rod from underneath the wing, and lifts it to her mouth, using both hands to twist the hyrdo-spanner into whatever stubborn rivet the Jedi Master is poring over. Finding that both hands are no more effective than a singular one, she takes the rod out of mouth and resorts to using a one handed grip.

"You see padawan, one must exercise great patience when working with..." the Jedi Master begins to tell Ahsoka, only to swear abruptly at the sound of a conduit rupturing. She brings her face closer to inspect the source of the noise, only to be beaten back by a small explosion from the crevice.

Master Kenobi splutters and coughs as she waves away the smoke.

"That was not my best idea," she remarks irritably, more so to herself than Ahsoka.

Ahsoka poises to leap down from the star-fighter's wing.

"Are you alright Master? Do you need any help?" she asks, half concerned, and thoroughly amused. The Jedi Master peers up at her, and shakes her head.

"No need, I have this well and perfectly under control padawan," Master Kenobi insists, giving her a weak smile.

Scepticism lines the togruta's features. "Are you sure Master because I can..." she starts to protest.

"Well and perfectly under control Ahsoka," Master Kenobi asserts.

"If you are sure," Ahsoka says reluctantly, before leaning further back on the wing. Never say that Master Kenobi isn't stubborn.

Another disturbance reverberates from the crevice. This time it sounds like flatulence.

Master Kenobi exhales loudly. "Oh, what is it now?" she mutters. The Jedi Master does not have to wait long for an answer.

Seconds later, Master Kenobi is pelted by a dark and thick substance gushing from the crevice.

"Blast it!" Master Kenobi curses and drops the hydro-spanner.

"Master Kenobi?" Ahsoka inquires tentatively.

She looks up at the sound of her name. "Yes?" she replies, making no effort to hide her irritation.

Now that she's able to see Master Kenobi's face clearly Ahsoka is unable to help the giggles from escaping her mouth. Grease and grime cover every inch of the Jedi Master's face, her hair is frizzy from static and her dour expression is _priceless_.

Racked with laughter, Ahsoka hugs her sides in a very lax attempt to contain herself. Master Kenobi places her hands on her hips, and opens her mouth to reprimand the padawan but is cut off by a distinctive male voice.

"What is so funny?"

Ahsoka turns her head to the side, and sees Master Skywalker approach the star-fighter. He pauses in his stride, no more than three feet away from Master Kenobi's back.

From her vantage point Ahsoka is able to witness Master Kenobi closing her eyes, as if she's considering a problem. With a sharp intake of breath, she opens her eyes and casually swivels around to face Anakin.

"I don't know you tell me," she says, crossing her arms.

An awkward silence descends as Master Skywalker assesses his former mentor. A blink. And then he bursts out into full-blown laughter.

"I am so glad you find this funny Anakin," Master Kenobi fumes.

Once Master Skywalker's regained his composure, he straightens. "What happened here?" he asks, sniggering.

Ahsoka is unable to help herself from commenting. "Master Kenobi is having a skirmish with her star-fighter".

Master Kenobi scowls up at the padawan, conveying her sentiments on Ahsoka's input, before she glances at Master Skywalker once more.

"That's an exaggeration. It was merely a slight malfunction," she corrects.

Master Skywalker raises a brow as he appraises the grime-coated crevice. "Doesn't seem like a 'slight' malfunction to me. It looks like you've overloaded the entire circuitry," he observes.

Master Kenobi bends down to pick up the discarded hydro-spanner. "Anakin don't you have better things to do?" she asks, a none-too subtle hint for him to leave. She turns back to her star-fighter, and resumes tinkering with the problematic crevice.

Ahsoka admires Master Kenobi for her gall. She must be one of the only people able to get away with ignoring her Master in such a manner.

Master Skywalker purposely ignores the dismissal, and steps closer to woman. "You're doing it wrong," he states.

Master Kenobi sighs. "Anakin I am more than capable of handling my own maintenance repairs," she tells him as she twists the hydro-spanner in a repetitive motion.

Master Skywalker closes the distance between them in one large and purposeful stride.

"You don't do it like that," he informs her, gently reprimanding. Master Skywalker reaches his arms around the woman's slender figure, boxing her in against the star-fighter.

Ahsoka leans forward from her perch to get a better view, eager to finally learn something on mechanics, other than how easily they can coax swear words from a typically reserved person like Master Kenobi.

He braces one large hand on Master Kenobi's forearm, and the other on her wrist. Master Kenobi stiffens at the contact. "Anakin! Really this is ridiculous I can..." she starts to protest.

Master Skywalker, naturally pays no mind to her objection.

"Here turn it anti-clock wise, and keep your hand steady," he instructs as he guides the woman's hand through the manoeuvre.

Even though it's hard to discern with grime coating her face Ahsoka swears by the Force that Master Kenobi's cheeks are flushed. From this angle she appears positively flustered.

To Ahsoka the reason is obvious.

 _Master Kenobi is a Jedi Master, and she trained Skyguy. So of course she would hate being told what to do by him_ , she thinks.

Master Skywalker lets go of her, and watches carefully as Master Kenobi fluidly carries out his instructions. It must have worked, judging by the introspective look on the woman's features.

"I guess you can be right from time to time," she cedes.

She is too busy poring over the crevice to notice the smile that touches Master Skywalker's lips at her comment. But Ahsoka does.

 _Master Skywalker always loves to prove himself right. So of course he would smile like that. He's smug_ , she muses.

In the padawan's young mind, there can be no other explanation.


	3. Drastic Measures

**Drastic Measures**

 **Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

Just wanted to say a whole-hearted great big thank you to anyone who reads, favourites, reviews and follows my fics. :) you guys are all amazing!

 **Summary:** Obi-wan is determined that Anakin seek medical treatment for his injuries. But when Anakin insists on being stubborn, she considers resorting to drastic measures.

* * *

 **Drastic Measures**

Anakin, as much as he claims otherwise, retains the unfortunate habit of making Obi-wan feel as if she's aged ten years, all due to his reckless and impulsive nature. Just when she thinks that he cannot possibly top his last jaw-dropping stunt, he chooses to charge headlong and knock out the heavily artillery canons of the enemy on his own.

Anakin had in fact succeeded in his self-assigned mission, but not without consequence. He's sustained injuries, and while he hides it well enough from the clones that he is currently briefing, he can't conceal it from her.

She can sense his pain as if it were her own, a ramification of their still-intact training bond. The manner in which his arms are tightly crossed over his chest, indicates to her that his injuries must be located around the general abdominal area.

If she knows Anakin as well as she believes she does than convincing him to seek medical attention will no doubt prove to be a challenge. Her stubborn former apprentice has the annoying tendency to neglect the finer aspects of his health, and has never quite grasped the concept that a wounded Jedi is more of a hindrance rather than a help.

"...alright men, take tonight to recuperate, tomorrow we press our advance. Squad Dismissed," she hears Anakin order his men, his voice loud, and ringing with authority.

The clone squad disperses as soon as the command is issued from Anakin's mouth, and seconds later they have all spread out in their respective directions towards the barracks, leaving Anakin in her direct line of sight.

Anakin's head snaps up as she proceeds to make her way towards him. Their gazes lock with one another, and she can read his facial expression loud and clear. Anakin doesn't want to hear anything about his injuries from her.

Well too bad for him, because she's determined that he's not getting out of this one. How did he put it once? Lectures are her speciality, according to Anakin.

She ceases a polite distance away from him, and clasps her hands before her. Anakin raises a hand and speaks up before she can begin to formulate her words.

"I know what you are going to say. So you might as well not waste your breath," Anakin asserts.

Obi-wan lifts her chin, and squares her shoulders. Stubborn, as she predicted.

"If you already know what I was going to say, then might I suggest that you locate the nearest medical station?" she recommends, knowing full well that the suggestion will be futile.

"Might I suggest that you mind your own business?" Anakin replies defensively.

His attempt to glower at her is undermined by the sudden tensing of his muscles, and the brief grimace that passes over his features. A wave of pain comes from Anakin's Force signature and Obi-wan, not willing to let the subject slide tries to press the matter further.

"It is my business if my fellow Jedi is unable to carry out his duties on the field tomorrow, all because of his own stubbornness," she tells him bluntly.

Anakin, not liking being spoken back to fixes her with a hard look. "Lay off Obi-wan. I'm not your padawan anymore," Anakin snaps.

At his brusque words, Obi-wan's own ire is piqued, and she sets her hands on her hips, as she frowns up at him through livid eyes. Why does he always insist on being so difficult?

"It's a good thing you're not, otherwise I would haul you over to the medical bay right now!" she shoots back. Anakin is the only being in the galaxy who can so easily shatter her Jedi reserve, and all in under a span of five minutes. Some things never change. Five minutes might even be a new record.

His blue eyes darken considerably as a frown mars his face.

"I would like to see you try," he challenges, leaning closer to stare her directly in the eyes. An open dare if she ever called it.

Instead of being offended, or angered, Obi-wan is thoughtful. The old motto 'if you want something done, do it yourself' runs through her head, and she realises. Actions speak louder than words, and that goes double for when dealing with an obstinate Anakin.

She decides to give him one last chance to reconsider, before she has to resort to drastic measures.

"Anakin as your friend I am requesting that you at least get yourself checked out by a medical droid," she implores him, her voice kinder than it was previously.

Anakin visibly softens, and his tense posture abates somewhat. "I will be fine Obi-wan," he says firmly, though there is no bite in his tone.

"Of course you will be, once you visit the medical bay," she retorts.

Anakin's features instantly harden as he becomes defensive once again. "When you stop lecturing me, then perhaps I will be!" he reiterates. His breathing has become noticeably harsher, and his broad shoulders are rigid with barely restrained anger.

The tension between them is like an electrical current, the friction of their clashing opinions and personalities is a disturbed ripple projected into the Living Force, and stifling to her own Force senses. Obi-wan has always likened these disagreements to a mud puddle. An odd epitaph but a fitting one. Their disagreements are often riddled with messy, and unseemly emotions. It is a bad-form on her part to engage in these petty disputes but she is inclined to dissuade the crazy galaxy-spinning notions Anakin gets in his head from time-to-time. After all someone had to be the voice of reason and logic. In the end it is usually all for naught as their arguments are always inconclusive as neither one of them is willing to give way to the other.

But that will not be the case this time. She _will_ have the last say. Messy emotions aside.

Obi-wan lets her features smooth over, and folds her hands behind her back. "I see. And is that your final answer then?" she asks, detached.

Anakin bristles and clenches his mechanical hand into a fist, reflecting the storm raging just beneath the surface. "Just drop it Obi-wan!" he growls.

She is not fazed at all by his heated response. Obi-wan does not do so much as blink, ever the serene and composed Jedi master.

There's only one thing for it. Anakin will visit the medical station one way or another. He simply needs a little _persuasion_.

Obi-wan unhinges her hands from behind her back, and drops them to her sides. Anakin watches her closely, no doubtlessly expecting her to continue this dispute.

Unfortunately for Anakin, she's done dancing to his tune. One of them has to take his health seriously.

She throws her hands up in a dismissive gesture. "Well then, I suppose that I cannot be held accountable for my own actions," she tells him plainly.

Anakin frowns slightly as he digests her comment. "What actions...Wha...!" he begins to inquire but is cut off by Obi-wan's swift, and precise movements.

She quickly grasps Anakin's wrists, bends down and wrapping a single arm around his legs, sweeps his entire body over her shoulders. Obi-wan immerses herself in the Force to augment her limbs with physical strength so she is able to bear the weight of Anakin's huge frame.

Anakin thrashes and flails in her grip, his hand seizing a fistful of her sandy brown cloak, near the small of her back. However she uses the Force to pin him place as she carries him over the threshold of the barracks to the nearest make-shift medical station.

"Obi-wan!" Anakin barks.

"Yes Anakin?" she asks amicably, as if they are discussing the weather.

"What are you doing?" he demands angrily.

Several helmetless clones give them sidelong glances as they pass by. She knows how unprofessional they look. By both military and Jedi standards, it's a complete misconduct of protocol, but right now she can't bring herself to be overly concerned. Anakin's health is her primary focus.

"I thought that it would be obvious. I am carrying you," she replies blandly.

Though she can't see his facial expression, she can sense his fury through the Force. And _oh_ he's angry alright, and embarrassed, but he will live with it. This is all for Anakin's own good anyway.

"Let me go Obi-wan!" he yells, the sheer volume making her ears ache.

Obi-wan simply continues in her moderate pace, keeping a steady grip on Anakin, who is still attempting to elude her Force bind. But she is a like a woman possessed, nothing will deter her from course. Anakin is getting a medical examination, whether he likes it or not.

"Certainly. Once we reach the medical bay I will be more than happy to let you go," she informs him, her tone deceptively pleasant.

Anakin curses furiously, and lets loose a stream of threats, all of which are duly ignored by the woman they are directed at.

After what seems like a life-time of Anakin sprouting incensed phrases of retribution, and the curious looks of innumerable clones they finally reach the nearest medical station.

The medical bay is a make-shift area, composed of a dark green military-issued tent, and staffed by several medical droids. The interior is lined by several small portable beds, with a supply station off side in a corner. It is on one of these few unoccupied beds which Obi-wan deposits an indignant Anakin.

The bed creaks under the weight of Anakin's large frame, and his too long legs dangle over the edge. Anakin props himself up on his elbows, and fixes her with a hard glare.

Obi-wan pointedly ignores Anakin as she surveys the medical bay for an available medical droid. At the present they are all preoccupied with tending to wounded clone troopers. Judging from the body count of injured soldiers, it is a miracle that there was a bed vacant for Anakin.

She turns back to Anakin, who has reached a similar conclusion. "Oh look it's too busy, guess I'll have to come back at another time," Anakin says cynically and attempts to stand up only to be thwarted by Obi-wan who pushes him back down onto the bed.

"No stay, I will be back momentarily," she orders him.

Anakin frowns at the edict, but stays put. He's never cared for any directives on her part, and she suspects that it reminds him of his padawan days, when rank and experience had divided them.

With that she spins on her heel, leaving Anakin to brood while she heads over to the supply station to find a medi-kit. Seeing as there are no medical experts available, and that this maybe the only opportunity she will have to make Anakin get checked up she might as well patch him up herself.

Any Jedi as part of their basic training is taught elementary first aid, and considering the current political situation of the galaxy, such education is a necessity. When she comes to the supply station, she spares a brief glance over her shoulder, checking to see if Anakin is still where she left him.

She would have sensed if Anakin left the vicinity, but this is Anakin she is considering. Anakin...has a way of taking her by surprise even at the best of times.

Anakin has not moved from the bed, and looks down at his boots while twiddling the thumbs of his clasped hands impatiently.

Diverting her attention from Anakin, she grabs a standardised medi-kit from the bench of the supply station, and ambles her way through the aisle of beds and assembled droids, back to Anakin.

Anakin gazes up at her with a wary expression as she ceases before his seated position. It makes a change looking down at him for once, seeing as he's been taller than her since he hit a late growth spurt at the age of fifteen. The thought doesn't last long as she places the medi-kit on the pallet beside Anakin, and sets her mind to the task at hand.

"Where are these injuries? I can sense that they are located around the abdominal area but I need you to show me," she tells him.

Of course Anakin's first instinct is to protest. He starts rise from the bed. "Obi-wan this is a complete waste of time I do not need you too...kriff!" he swears, as he brings a hand up to cover what she can only assume is the injury Anakin is trying to brush off.

Anakin's pain assaults her Force senses once again, and she's given an inkling into how severe his injuries really are.

"Hold your shaak-herd, Anakin sit down!" she admonishes, placing a tentative hand on Anakin's shoulder and guiding him back onto the pallet.

Anakin inhales sharply. "It's nothing, Obi-wan, there's no need to become so swindled," his rebuke sounds garbled to her ears, as he speaks through gritted teeth.

"Anakin just let me check this injury of yours," her tone is exasperated. Dealing with an obstinate Anakin is proving to be both physically and mentally draining. Sometimes she wonders how she is still entirely sane after a decade of training Anakin. She must have held an infinite amount of patience. A fully knighted Anakin is bad enough for the testing of one's tolerance.

"I told you it's nothing to worry about," Anakin insists.

But Obi-wan's had enough of such a childish debate. He's not leaving this medical bay until she's assessed his injuries.

"Anakin take off your tunic," she instructs.

Anakin's eyes widen, and he cocks his head to the side as he gives her look that asks if she's actually serious.

"What?" he splutters.

Obi-wan does not understand why Anakin persists in making a fuss over such a minor thing.

"You heard me Anakin, take it off now," she says impatiently.

Anakin snorts. "You have no idea how convoluted that sounds".

Obi-wan's expression sours and her lips curl downwards. "Don't take this out of context Anakin, take your tunic off now! Or I will do it for you," she threatens.

Anakin makes no move to remove his tunic, and favours her with a sceptical gaze, as if he believes that she's bluffing.

"I don't believe you will," he remarks.

Obi-wan merely raises a brow. "Are you sure about that?"

She extends her hands toward Anakin intending to wrest the tunic from him, only to have them hastily slapped away.

Anakin holds his arms up in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright! You've made your point! I will remove my tunic".

"I thought you might see it my way," she is unable to resist commenting. It is a rare moment indeed for Anakin to be so humbled.

"Very funny," Anakin mutters, as he deftly unbinds the various fastenings on his tunic, and its inlays, before lifting the garment over his head and tossing it on the pallet.

Obi-wan is greeted by a most unwelcome sight. The flesh of Anakin's chest and abdominal region is discoloured by a mass of deep, purplish bruises. Nothing too critical, but still unpleasant nonetheless. It is not necessarily the bruises that are the major concern, but rather the sheer _number_ of them.

Obi-wan kneels down to inspect the injury. Anakin's lucky that extensive bruises are the only injuries he's sustained. Her mind reels as she recalls the manner in which Anakin had foolhardily destroyed the heavily artillery cannons by himself. Honestly, what had he been thinking? Even after all this time Anakin's recklessness never ceases to amaze her.

"These bruises are certainly no laughing matter," she says drily, placing a gentle hand on Anakin's taut, and blemished chest.

Anakin chooses not to reply.

Rubbing a thumb over the marred flesh, she glances up at his face. "Is it tender here?" she inquires.

Anakin's expression is unreadable. "No," he replies quietly.

Rather taken back by Anakin's unusual subdued manner, she reaches for the medi-kit beside Anakin. Shuffling through its contents, Obi-wan locates the bacta patches she needs, and extracts them from the box. Stripping the patches from their seal, she methodically sets about plastering them over the bruised skin of Anakin's sternum and abdominal regions.

Just as she's sticking the last bacta patch over Anakin's sternum, he surprises her by placing his gloved, mechanical hand over her flesh and bone one. As his large hand encompasses her own, she looks up at him quizzically. Anakin's been uncharacteristically silent while she's applied the patches. Maybe he's thinking of a witty quip to make at her expense, in retaliation for the drastic measures she took to get him to visit the medical bay.

"There now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she says.

Anakin remains strangely silent. Maybe he has a fever coming on? Following that line of thought, she places a light hand on his forehead. He seems fine. No abnormal temperature that she can feel.

The Living Force around them, is still and calm. Her force senses inform her that there's no immediate cause for concern. Anakin's vital signs are healthy, other than a slightly accelerated heart rate. She frowns as she assesses the heartbeat in Anakin's chest.

"Your heart rate is beating faster than normal. Perhaps I should summon the next available medical droid. Just to get it checked out," she tells him.

Anakin prises her hand away from his chest. "That won't be necessary," he says firmly.

"But you might need...," the Jedi Master begins to elaborate.

"Obi-wan I'm fine, if there was anything wrong I'd sense it, it is _my_ body after all," Anakin interjects.

Obi-wan sighs. She might as well accept that this is the best she was going to get from Anakin. At least his bruises have been seen to. The anti-septics contained within the bacta patches should kick in soon, and hopefully by this time tomorrow Anakin's discoloured flesh will be almost clear of bruising.

"Very well," she cedes. Gathering to her feet, she picks up the medi-kit from beside Anakin, and closes the lid. "I better return this to the supply bench before someone notices it's missing".

With that, she turns on her heel, and makes to return the item to the supply station, but pauses in her stride upon hearing Anakin call her from behind.

"Obi-wan?"

At the sound of her name, she glances over her shoulder.

"I was about to make my way to the medical bay before you approached me," Anakin says, amused.

Her eyes widen fractionally. _What?_ Why didn't he speak up sooner? They could have avoided all this mayhem if he had simply informed her of his intentions from the beginning.

"Just so you know for next time, I suggest that you get the full story before making assumptions and flinging me over your shoulder," he tells her smugly.

She turns her head swiftly, before he can witness the reddening of her cheeks. Instead of responding, she chooses to walk away. Some things are just not worth the time and energy.

Anakin was going to be the end of her. She just knew it.

But at least she now had the peace of mind of knowing that Anakin's injuries have been treated. She can bear his incessant teasing, if it means that he remains in good health.


	4. Up close and Personal

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

just wanted to say a great big thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, favorited or followed my fics. you guys are all wonderful!

 **Summary:** After a botched escape attempt Obi-wan and Anakin find themselves stuck in a cockpit. Obi-wan worries for her sanity.

* * *

 **Up Close and Personal**

Obi-wan's been involved in many escape attempts throughout her life that she's deduced it's an occupation hazard in a Jedi's line of duty. She doesn't boast when she identifies herself as somewhat of an expert on the subject.

However in light of her current situation, she's beginning to question her own knack for death-defying escape attempts. Why she thought relying on Anakin to choose their getaway transport was wise is beyond her own comprehension. Her only excuse is that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Due to her hasty judgement her exit strategy's gone south.

By which she means she's now cramped in a small one-man star-fighter with only Anakin for company, and there's still another five hours to go until they reach the nearest Republican military base. She silently curses Echo-Flex-liners and their small ineffectual hyper-drives.

Safe to say this is one of the most unsophisticated escape attempts she's ever taken part in, and sadly perhaps the most memorable. She's certain that she will not be forgetting their current predicament any time soon.

It's uncomfortable at the very least. At present her back is pressed against Anakin's front as she sits none-too dignified in his lap, while Anakin occupies the single pilots seat. Under the console, her legs are squashed together in a pitiful attempt to avoid brushing them against Anakin's. His arms engulf her from both sides, as he grips the control yoke.

After a rather lengthy dispute that had gotten them nowhere, other than wading aimlessly through space, she had reluctantly allowed for Anakin to take the controls, knowing he would never give way. Although he doesn't dare admit it to her face, wary of the extensive lecture that would follow, they both know its anunspoken truth between them. Anakin does not like her flying.

Between the two of them he is the more skilled pilot. And _oh_ doesn't he just know it. The smugness just radiates off him in the Force, like an over-arching steam from a pot that's about to boil over.

His ego is simply too big to contain in this compact and tightly sealed cockpit. It's a wonder the transparisteel viewer screen doesn't crack from the size of it.

Obi-wan glances down at the flashing navi-computer. Still five hours to go until they reach their destination. She almost cringles at the thought.

Five more hours of being stuck in a cockpit with Anakin. _Force_ help them both.

And to make matters worse, the cockpit has become a furnace.

Space is meant to be cold, but Obi-wan feels warm. _Unbearably_ warm. And it's all Anakin's fault. His hot breath tickles the shell of her ear as he leans over her shoulder to see the view screen, and his unwelcome natural body heat seeps through his Jedi robes.

Her own cheeks have become flushed by the increase in temperature, and sweat beads down her forehead. If she had the room she would wipe her brow, but that would involve bumping against Anakin's forearm, and she does not wish to come into contact with him any more than she has to.

It's almost all too much.

Too hot. Too close. Too personal.

The sooner they arrive at the nearest outpost the better.

She almost starts at the sudden sensation of Anakin's legs colliding with hers as he shifts in his seat. Obi-wan purses her lips, and bites down on her tongue to keep from saying anything.

She frowns when Anakin's left boot nudges her own, and she wraps one foot behind the other in an attempt to move them away from his. Seconds later, his right boot grazes her crossed ankles.

"Anakin?" she says, managing to keep her voice neutral.

"Yes?" he replies, his chest rumbling against her back. The Force is awash with Anakin's light-hearted mood, and her own discontent. Polarity in a cockpit. Now if only she could read his expression.

"Do you have Sykka fleas?" she inquires.

"Whatever gives you that impression Master?" he asks innocently. In her mind's eye she can imagine his unabashed wry grin.

Her lips compress into a thin line. "Is there a reason why you cannot sit still?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Master," Anakin says coyly.

"Anakin," she warns. Anakin naturally pays no heed to her.

"Obi-wan," he counters, the humour in his tone unmistakable.

Before she can scold Anakin for his childish behaviour, Artoo tweets from his socket, off side the star-fighters wing. Anakin's strange astromech sounds much too chipper for her liking. The droid has always made Obi-wan uneasy, as he tends to exhibit traits eerily similar to human ones.

"You alright there buddy?" Anakin calls cheerfully over the inter-com.

Artoo beeps an affirmative.

Obi-wan sighs, exasperated. Between Anakin's immaturity, and his unusually high-spirited droid, this trip is stretching out to become the longest five hours of her life.

Once more she feels Anakin's feet nudge her own underneath the console. She grits her teeth, and clamps down on her desire to reprimand him further. Let him see the futility of his actions. She will not acknowledge such childish behaviour. He will get no reaction out of her.

As if Anakin senses her line of thoughts, his left boot prods her right ankle. She duly ignores it.

His right boot bumps against her calf. She remains fixed on the intel of the navi-computer.

 _Both_ of his feet nudge her ankles this time. Her hands twitch as she gazes at the star-lines through the view screen.

She mentally prepares herself for his next endeavour to irk her and risks a peek underneath the console, however Anakin's feet are once more planted on the star-fighter's floor.

It's about time Anakin ceased with his shenanigans. Obi-wan does not get the time to finish that thought when Anakin's boot once more brushes against her legs.

Enough of this foolery!

"Anakin!" she exclaims.

"Yes Master?"

"Would you kindly refrain from wriggling around like buxa snake!" she reprimands.

"Of course Master, once I know what it is that you are referring to," he says. It's clear from his tone that he's trying hard not to laugh. She can feel his amusement clearly through the Force. He's _enjoying_ this. She can't believe his audacity!

Will he ever learn? They are in a most compromising situation here, and he has the inclination to play a practical joke.

When she glances at the navi-computer she wonders how in all the galaxy she is going to sit through the next five hours without bursting a blood vessel.

While she's mulling over her mental health, Anakin's unwarranted chuckle fills her ears. Obi-wan resists the very uncharacteristic urge to bang her head on the console.

If she's still sane after this, it will be a miracle.


	5. Unprecedented Measures

**Unprecedented Measures**

 **Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** Anakin worries for Obi-wan's health. Prone to over-reactions, he resorts to unprecedented measures. A side one-shot to "Drastic Measures"

* * *

 **Unprecedented Measures**

Obi-wan for all her good intentions is the galaxy's biggest hypocrite. She will harp on and on about how he neglects his own health, and yet when it comes down to it, she will brush off his own concerns for her well-being as if it's nothing.

It rankles Anakin to no end, the way in which Obi-wan never practices what she preaches. The way in which she's always on his back about something, or other. She never _listens_.

Well like it or not, he is going to make her listen.

The Halls of Healing provides a sanctity for injured Jedi, and is meant to induce a sense of peacefulness in those who visit its hallowed ward. A balm for the Force-sensitive soul.

It's not proving to be very soothing right now.

Currently he and Obi-wan are caught in a staring contest from opposing sides of the room. To Anakin it's a visually accurate portrayal of their dispute.

The Force itself is filled with unruly tension, a clash between their two differing opinions. A psychic measure of their quarrel. Which, of course is all Obi-wan's fault in the first place.

Master Vokara, the Chief Healer had expressly told Obi-wan that the anti-biotic prevents infection. But Obi-wan must have been hard of hearing because the anti-biotic remains untouched on her night-stand. Why she refuses to take the anti-biotic prescribed to her by the Healers is beyond him. How hard is it to reach out, and ingest the _kriffing_ contents?

His original intention had been to visit Obi-wan in the Halls of Healing and see how her recovery was coming along, only to be waylaid in the hall by the Chief Healer with the request that he sort out his stubborn former mentor. Needless to say he had not been happy to hear about Obi-wan neglecting her own health. _Again_.

When he'd entered Obi-wan's room, she'd greeted him with a smile, only to frown at the livid expression on Anakin's face, as she asked him why he was so worked up. Never one to bottle up his feelings, Anakin had told all. And now five minutes later here they were, still tediously arguing, all due to Obi-wan's misplaced determination to refuse her need for healthcare.

Obi-wan rises off the bed, and gathers to her feet. "Really Anakin I don't know why you always insist on making a big deal out of nothing".

Her patronising tone grates on his nerves. _Nothing_! She thinks her health means _nothing_!

There are times when Anakin is filled with the irrepressible urge to shake Obi-wan . This _is_ definitely one of those times.

"Just take the kriffing medicine Obi-wan," Anakin growls.

Obi-wan fixes him with one of those insufferable, impassive expressions she gets whenever dealing with official Jedi business. The expression that says she's not fazed in the slightest. The expression that tells him she's not interested.

"When I am ready," she alludes.

Anakin's nostrils flare at Obi-wan's vague comment. Now is not the time to act the serene and cryptic Jedi Master.

"How hard is it to swallow an anti-biotic?" he challenges.

She arches a sceptical eye brow. "Whoever said it was hard?"

"Obi-wan!"

Why doesn't she take this seriously? And she claims that he's the unreasonable one!

He stalks toward her, and she meets him half-way, hands poised on her hips. At this distance, it's evident how much he towers over her, and he uses his height advantage as a way to stare her down.

Anakin knows it won't be effective. It's never worked before, and there's no reason to believe that this time will be the exception. But he does it anyway. At least to try and prove a point. That her health is a _serious_ matter.

He detects her irritation pike via his Force senses, the only indication that she's annoyed.

"Anakin, I will not be dictated to, I am perfectly capable of seeing to my own well-being. I do not need you to remind me to take the medicine," she chides.

Anakin swears he can feel a blood vessel start to throb in his head. His jaw tightens.

"Take the medicine Obi-wan!"

She blinks up at him, unperturbed. "I will. Later".

Anakin's body stiffens, and he curses under his breath. He looks away, raising a hand to his forehead. The vial of the anti-biotic sits on the night-stand, as if to mock him. And then it _clicks_. If Obi-wan will not take her medicine, he will _convince_ her to take it.

He reaches out an arm, and picks the vial up off the night-stand. When he gazes down at her once more, he notices Obi-wan watching him wearily.

"So you won't take it?"

Obi-wan releases a sigh. "We've been over this Anakin. I will take it, in my own time," she says.

Anakin makes a show of letting his shoulders droop. "Fine then".

A twitch of Obi-wan's lips Force is the only indication that she's amused.

Well it can't be helped. The only way Obi-wan will take her medicine is if he forces it down her throat. She won't find anything comical with what he's about to do.

Utilising Jedi reflexes, he pops the lid off the vial with his teeth, and pours the contents into his mouth. It's sickeningly sweet on his taste buds.

Obi-wan watches him with what he can only identify as a _baffled_ expression on her face, and it certainly makes a change seeing her caught off guard. It takes a lot to surprise Obi-wan.

She opens her mouth to speak. "Anakin, what in all the..."

And that's when he makes his move.

He swiftly closes the distance between them, and leans down. Framing her face with his hands, his lips crash over parted mouth. His tongue passes over her own, and slides against the upper surface of the inside her mouth, as he transfers the vial's liquid into it.

Obi-wan's body becomes rigid, and she places a hand against his chest, but makes no move to push him away, as if too shocked by his actions to respond.

The Force around them is rowdy, and yet vibrant. Almost... _elemental_ somehow. As if one of them is a steady beach, and the other is the wave crashing upon the shore.

It feels potent. _Force help him_ it feels good.

When he finally draws away, Obi-wan coughs at the substance in her mouth. Watery blue-grey eyes gaze up at him startled.

Anakin, satisfied with the results steps away to give her space to recover.

"Anakin, you..." she splutters.

"You were right Master, whoever said it was hard?" he smirks, before spinning on his heel and departing her room.

Let her mull over that!

Outside in the hall, he is accosted by the Chief Healer Vokara Che, an aged and stern twi'lek woman.

"Well? Did you get through to her? Has she taken the anti-biotic?" she asks.

 _Oh yes_. She has.

"Don't worry Master I got through to her," he says.

The twi'lek cocks her head slightly, unconvinced. "Really and how did you manage that?"

"Why with logic and reason of course," he says coyly. He doesn't think Master Vokara Che would take kindly to a recount of the way he in which he used admittedly unprecedented manners to get Obi-wan to ingest her anti-biotic.

The healer does not appear impressed by his remark. She shoos him away. "Well off with you then!"

Anakin dips his head respectfully. "Yes Master," he says, before walking around the vexed twi'lek woman.

When Obi-wan is discharged from the Halls of Healing, Anakin knows he is going to be on the receiving end of a _very extensive_ lecture from her. But for all intents and purposes he doesn't care. Keeping Obi-wan in good health made it all worthwhile.


	6. Contentment

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** On rare evening off from duty, Obi-wan contemplates stars, sewing and Anakin.

* * *

 **Contentment**

The stars are especially bright this evening, luminescent enough to make one pause, and look up to contemplate their beauty and symbolism.

Stars mean different things to different people. To some, stars embody hope, or for the more restless soul, the promise of adventure. To the more scientific, and cynical mind, stars are giant gas bodies.

For Obi-wan stars do not hold any deeper meanings, or connotations, they simply exist as natural phenomena. Splendorous, cosmic entities splayed across the night sky, held together not only by mere gravity, but by the Force.

It provides Obi-wan with a beautiful distraction from the nights chill, and her task at hand, repairing the hem of her well-worn cloak. One might question the wisdom of lingering outside on such a cool night, but feeling the inclination for a reprieve from the never-ending hustle of Jedi going about their business within the temple walls, she had sought out the tranquillity of the temples rooftop meditation gardens.

At night the gardens are a vibrant place, teeming with bioluminescent plant-life, the gentle ripples from the nearby pool, and the chirping of nocturnal insects. It's a beautiful sanctuary, strong with the Living Force - pure and untarnished by the anguish and despair wrought by the casualties of the ongoing war.

She never takes these solitary interludes for granted, after all her comlink could beep at any time. It won't be long now until she's allocated another assignment by the council, and shipped off to the frontlines once more.

Hence why she uses this opportunity to quiet her mind, for peace is in short supply these days. Obi-wan alternates between gazing up at the stars, stitching the frayed hem of her cloak and marvelling at the natural sanctuary in which she dwells.

Utilising her sewing needle, she pulls the thread through the edge of the cloaks hem. The process is slow; Obi-wan is no expert when it comes to sewing garments, but she is component. While there are maintenance droids throughout the temple who are programmed with the sole intention of catering to domestic chores, every Jedi is encouraged to repair their own clothing wherever possible. The idea behind it is to promote humility, and remind Jedi that they are not exempt from mundane tasks, merely because they are hailed as the protectors of the Republic.

Anakin has never quite gotten the knack of stitching. Prodigious when it came to anything mechanical, however set him loose with needle and thread, and he could reap absolute _chaos_.

Obi-wan knew first hand, since she had been the one who had tried to teach him, only for her efforts to result in an absolute disaster. She had left Anakin to his own devices, expecting crooked stiches from his lack of experience, only to discover that he had shed large, gaping holes in his tunic. Anakin had absurdly claimed the thread was too weak when he tried to pull it through the material, and she had blamed the entire fiasco on his impatience.

Needless to say, following several heated debates on the necessity of the skill, and after thoroughly exhausting the topic, Obi-wan had let the matter slide. In the grand scheme of things, there were more important lessons to be imparted. Anakin would just have to hope there was a good maintenance droid nearby.

Pondering Anakin's inaptitude for rudimentary clothing repairs, brings him to the forefront of her mind. Her former apprentice had been assigned to the military task force stationed in the Balmorra system. Being tied up with the battle group sent to liberate Ordu 9 from Separatist occupation, she's not had any contact with him for a month. The operation was a success, and Obi-wan had been recalled to Coruscant on stand-by for her next deployment.

Now that she's in limbo, waiting for her next mission, Obi-wan finds herself thinking about Anakin's well-being. Though it's completely ill-advised for a Jedi, she almost _worries_ for her former apprentice while he's away on campaign, all too painfully aware of Anakin's tendency for rash behaviour. Anakin can be rather... _unpredictable_ even at the best of times. It's hard not to feel sympathy for the officers under Anakin's command. Thirteen years of close-acquaintance with the headstrong young Jedi has taught her how to manage or at least minimise the potential repercussions of Anakin's impulsive nature. Obi-wan can safely say that any commanding officer serving underneath Anakin has their work cut out for them.

Momentarily pausing in her stitching, Obi-wan peers up at the night sky, and the glistening stars. Somewhere among those stars, Anakin is out there facing down a hostile enemy, and she will most likely be off-world when he returns home to the temple. A shame really, it would've been nice to see him before she leaves, to have solid evidence that he's unharmed. If wishes were speeders...

A light stirring in the Force draws her out of her reverie, and Obi-wan turns her head to see a large figure approach. A _very_ familiar figure.

 _Anakin_.

Unexpected relief wells in her being at the sight of Anakin sauntering down the artistically cobbled pathway through the gardens. The strength of it astounds Obi-wan.

And yet she cannot deny she feels more at ease. Wishes _are_ speeders it seems.

Anakin comes to stand before the bench she occupies, and she glances up as his silhouette eclipses her view. His hands are folded into the voluminous sleeves of his cloak, his expression is impassive, but his vivid blue eyes shine in the torch light, and his tanned cheeks are flushed. All in all he appears to be in good health. Whether he's in good spirits however remains to be seen.

Anakin's Force signature feels calm, no threads of any intense or fiery emotions which are usually centred around his aura. It makes for a pleasant change, albeit a strange one. She's never seen him quite so self-contained.

"I admit I never expected to find you up here, of all places," Anakin says, breaking the lengthy silence.

"You are in good health I trust?" she asks politely.

Anakin frowns at her inquiry, no answer forthcoming. "What's brought you up here?" he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I like the tranquillity," she says simply.

"Mind if I join you then?"

Wordlessly she scoots over, and Anakin seats himself on the bench beside her, his huge frame occupying most of the available bench space.

"Having any luck with that?" Anakin quips.

Obi-wan looks down at the needle in her hands and the cloak draped across her lap, before meeting his clear blue gaze once more.

"More luck than you ever did with a needle and thread," she remarks.

Anakin bristles. "I don't understand why you don't just let the maintenance droids fix it," he says.

"Laziness is unbefitting for a Jedi," Obi-wan reminds him.

"It's not a matter of laziness it's a matter of time," Anakin retorts.

"Yes well luckily, I have some time to spare," she says drily.

She glances down at the idle needle in her hand, and resuming her stitching, pricks the cloaks hem, pulling the thread through the material.

"When did you get back?" Anakin asks.

"A day ago and yourself? Here I was thinking you would still be in the Balmorra system," she says, not looking up from her stitches.

"I arrived on-world this evening, I had just finished filing my report to Jedi Command, before I came to find you. The mission was a success. Those separatist scum won't be getting anywhere near Balmorra, any time soon," Anakin explains.

Before Obi-wan can open her mouth to reply, she involuntarily shivers. Despite the heating units installed into the Temple walls, the nights chill creeps into her bones. She has the Force to help regulate her body temperature, but the ability requires intense focus on the individual's part in order to implement technique. Right now Obi-wan's focus is needed elsewhere. Sewing is not exactly her area of expertise.

Bearing the cold in mind, Obi-wan continues stitching up the frayed hem with renewed vigour. Stitching, like lightsaber forms, follows a certain pattern. Pierce the underside of the material, pull the thread through, and repeat the action with the opposite side of the fabric. All the while, as she stitches, she feels Anakin watching her, no doubtlessly expecting her to uphold the conversation. Well, unfortunately for Anakin she did not come outside to have a conversation, and is a little preoccupied at the moment.

"You are cold," Anakin says after a time.

Obi-wan, pausing in her stitching once more, casts him a sidelong bemused glance. Why he insists on stating the obvious is beyond her. Just as she's about to recommence her sewing,she feels a sudden warm and heavy weight on her shoulders. Obi-wan's head whirls to see Anakin has shifted himself closer into her vicinity, and his large forearm arm, adorned in the voluminous sleeve of a dark cloak, is draped objectionably around her shoulders.

"Anakin!" she protests.

"Yes Master?" Anakin asks innocently.

"Would you kindly remove your arm from my shoulder?" she demands.

"Of course," Anakin says, keeping his unwelcome arm over her shoulders.

" _Now_?" she insists, not bothering to hide her irritation.

Anakin's lips twitch. "Not yet," he states.

"And why not?" she challenges.

Trickles of Anakin's amusement leak into the Living Force, at odds with his impassive facial expression. He's enjoying this a little too much for her liking. Anakin's penchant for juvenile behaviour never ceases to amaze her.

"Because you would be cold," Anakin replies unabashed.

Obi-wan's knuckles are white from clutching her cloak too tightly. "Anakin," she warns. Does he ever consider the consequences of his actions? If another Jedi entered the gardens right now...she shudders merely thinking about the repercussions. Disaster would not even begin to cover the mess that would follow.

She tries to shuffle away, but Anakin's grip on her shoulder is unrelenting. When she scoots further along the bench, Anakin merely follows, still enveloping her shoulders with his arm. Eventually she is forced to halt at the benches edge, to avoid slipping off the side.

"Anakin! This is entirely inappropriate! Let go, if someone sees..."

"Then you better finish you're stitching," Anakin tells her smugly.

Obi-wan scowls as Anakin gives her a shameless grin.

"Anakin sometimes I swear..." she trails off, knowing any effort to reprimand the young Jedi will be for naught.

"Swear what?" Anakin prompts. The cockiness simply _oozes_ out of him. She hears it in his voice, senses it in his Force aura. Obi-wan finds it almost hard to believe, that only ten minutes prior, she had been ruminating on the possibility of _missing_ him.

"Never mind," she dismisses.

Lectures are pointless. Anakin's arm will remain stubbornly in place until she either finishes repairing her cloak or departs from the gardens. A Jedi should not be so prideful and yet Obi-wan, for the life of her is unwilling to take the moral high ground and simply leave.

If Anakin wishes to wait for her, he is welcome to. She will stay here and finish what she's started. At her _own pace_.

For who knows, Anakin might even learn patience. Catching her line of thought, Obi-wan resists the uncharacteristic urge to snort. Anakin will learn patience when banthas learn to fly.

At least she's not so cold anymore. She grudgingly admits her former apprentice is rather effective at deterring the nights chill (not that she condones his method).

And deep down, she doesn't quite mind Anakin's company. While he's present with her, he's not out there in the field. It means she doesn't have to be monopolised by concern for his well-being. For now anyways.

She knows they will be sent off to war again soon, either together or alone. As Jedi, it's their duty and their lot in life. They accept it. Embrace it. Nothing more is acceptable.

But in this moment, with the stars glistening overhead, and Anakin by her side, whole and healthy, she is content.

For one never knows what tomorrow will bring.


	7. Flying Dreams

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** While on a mission, Obi-wan deals with Anakin's unusual sleeping habits.

 **A/N:** A big thank you to anyone who has favorited, followed, reviewed and read my fics. you guys are wonderful!

* * *

 **Flying Dreams**

Stirred awake by the howling wind rattling the window panes, a half asleep Obi-wan stubbornly keeps her eyelids closed.

Only for them to shoot open upon the discovery at the distinct lack of a solid surface beneath her body.

Turning her head to her left, Obi-wan is greeted by the sight of a sickle floating idly past. Perplexed she extends an arm toward the object, however it drifts away before she can reach it. Glancing up at the ceiling Obi-wan notices an abundance of straw suspended in mid-air. Frowning at the defiance for the laws for gravity, she flexes her fingers, but cannot feel the straw bale she had been using as a temporary bed.

The timber ceiling overhead appears to veer to the right. And that's when it fully registers. The ceiling did not move. _She did_.

She, like the sickle and the strands of straw is floating. Involuntarily gliding through the air, she almost flinches when the pointy end of a flying hydro-spanner narrowly misses her face.

That was _too close_ for comfort.

What in all the galaxy is going on here?

As far as she knew Obi-wan does not levitate herself or objects in her sleep which leads her to the most obvious conclusion.

 _Anakin_ is up to his old tricks again. This must be his convoluted idea of a practical joke. Only Anakin would resort to such frivolous use of the Force, and find it humorous. Well unfortunately for him she's far from impressed.

She thought he was far more mature than this. Clearly he's not, judging by her current sojourn through thin air.

"Anakin," she calls irate.

No response. Outside the barn, wind continues to howl.

"Anakin. If this is your idea of a practical joke. I am not..." she trails off, at the sound of soft snores coming from below.

Brows furrowing, Obi-wan twists her head in an attempt to view the ground. All efforts prove futile, as she can only turn her head so much without straining her spine.

Drifting aimlessly, she considers whether or not her former apprentice is faking sleep. It is plausible. Over a decade of sleeping in the wilderness on countless missions has acquainted her with Anakin's sleeping habits. He does, to this day (no matter how much he may say otherwise) still snore on occasion.

There's only one way to ascertain the truth.

Stretching out with the Force, she senses for Anakin's Force signature to gage his state of consciousness. The Force flows through her and for an infinitesimal moment she becomes Anakin from his steady heart rate, to his slow, deep breathing. Together, they are immersed in the REM cycle, lost in dreams.

Suspicions confirmed, Obi-wan detaches her mind from Anakin's before she can be lose herself in the Force, knowing full well the dangers of lingering too long in another person's unconscious mind.

Anakin has picked up a new sleeping habit it seems. Levitating objects in his sleep.

 _And people too_.

Obi-wan debates on whether or not to try and wake him. Either way, the outcome will be the same. Once Anakin's pulled himself out of whatever trance, or dream he's engaged in, she will be released from his Force grip, and gravity will have its way with her.

She will fall. And the unforgiving ground will be there to meet her.

While Obi-wan considers the best of course of action, her body rotates a full 180 degrees until she's facing the ground below, rather than the ceiling.

The floating sickle to her left drops and clatters on the wooden floorboards.

Anakin, lying on his back upon a pile of straw, continues to slumber, oblivious to chaos he is causing above.

The hydro-spanner (and almost projectile), follows suit, falling to the floor with an audible clunk.

A queasy sensation fills the pit of her stomach. If Obi-wan fell now, she would land right on top of Anakin.

Obi-wan knows this will not end favourably.

She does not have time to steel herself, as seconds later Obi-wan, along with the previously suspended straw plummets from mid-air to the floor.

An undignified protest escapes her lips as her body collides with Anakin's resting form. A loud male yelp follows and large, calloused hands fly up to wrap themselves around her slender throat. Obi-wan reflexively catches the tanned wrists and pins them above the culprits head.

Widened blue eyes stare up at her, startled.

"Obi-wan?!"

"Regrettably so," she says.

Anakin blinks. "Why...why are you on top of...," he trails off, too shocked to continue.

"Anakin do you by any chance have flying dreams?" she asks.

Anakin's brows crease. "What _?_ " he asks, baffled.

"Do you mind explaining why you levitate objects and _people_ in your sleep?" Obi-wan demands.

Anakin's mouth falls open slightly. "I don't know what you are talking about," he tells her.

"Of course you wouldn't, not when you're asleep the whole time," she retorts.

"Obi-wan, you don't know how crazy that sounds"

Her tone is unabashedly sarcastic. "Does it really?"

"Obi-wan, do _you_ mind explaining why you are sitting on top of _me_ covered in straw?" Anakin retaliates.

Obi-wan becomes painfully conscious of their awkward positioning. Her backside is planted over his stomach, legs on either side, all the while she leans over him, pinning both arms above his head.

The Jedi Master, ignoring the fact that she was now effectively straddling the Jedi Knight speaks. "Because of _your_ recent, and most unfortunate sleeping habit!"

"Which is?" Anakin prompts.

"You levitate objects and people in your sleep," she says annoyed at having to repeat herself.

"Alright, now that everything's all cleared up, do you mind letting go of my wrists?" Anakin asks, amused.

Cheeks colouring, Obi-wan relinquishes her grip on his wrists.

Anakin props himself up on his elbows. "You look like you've been rolling in a straw pile," he remarks.

Obi-wan scowls. "And you look like you are not even taking this seriously".

Anakin reaches up a hand, and pulls a few strands of golden straw from her hair, holding it out for her inspection. "Of course I'm taking this seriously," he says unconvincingly.

"This is not a laughing matter Anakin," she reprimands.

"If you say so Master," Anakin says, a humorous glint in his eyes.

It's clear he's trying to stifle his laughter. Just when she's about to lecture him further, the barn door creeks open. Obi-wan's head whips to the right as the farmer's wife Ruda, a short Felucian woman ambles in carrying a tray ladled with refreshments in her four-fingered hands.

Ruda stops short, and nearly drops her tray upon seeing the two Jedi.

"Oh my star clusters!" she gapes.

Scrambling to her feet Obi-wan is quick to protest but struggles to find the words. "We...ah...that is to say..."

The Felucian cocks her green head. "I had no idea it was true!"

 _What?_

"I'm sorry? I don't quite understand," Obi-wan says, momentarily distracted from her embarrassment.

"The stereotype about humans being unable to control their hormones," Ruda replies.

Silence descends, only to be filled by the howling of the wind and the chirping of insects outside.

Obi-wan clears her throat abruptly. "We were merely having... a discussion," she says feebly, almost cringing at her own pitiful excuse.

"I see. Is that part of the human mating ritual?" Ruda inquires curiously.

"Ah, I suppose... in some instances that might be the case," Obi-wan replies, not sure what to make of such a candid question.

"So if a human wishes to court another human. The female will sit on the males stomach, and they will partake in a discussion? Is that right?"

"That's right," Anakin interjects.

Both women turn to regard the Jedi Knight, lying casually on the floor, resting his hands behind his head. Obi-wan glares at his prone figure. _You're not helping here Anakin_.

Who knows how badly they've already alienated their kind hosts?

Before Obi-wan can set the record straight, Ruda despite being the host, and the Jedi merely guests who manifested unexpectedly at her door, deposits the tray on a nearby straw bale and inclines her head.

"I apologize for impeding upon your mating ritual. I hope you these refreshments will give you the strength you need. The mating ritual is a most sacred and trying bond. May your union will be blessed with many children," Ruda intones, before departing.

Obi-wan winces at the phrase 'mating ritual'. "Jedi do not..." she begins to protest, however she trails off when Ruda closes the barn door behind her.

"That was interesting," Anakin comments from behind.

The Jedi Master whirls to see him standing upright, arms folded over his chest.

"You did not help matters," she berates him.

"I don't see the problem here," Anakin tells her.

"Of course you don't. You never do".

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Anakin demands.

Obi-wan rubs her temples. "Never mind," she dismisses.

With that, she spins on her heel and heads for the barn door. "And where are you going?" Anakin calls.

"To get some fresh air," she says curtly.

 _And find a place to sleep, where I won't be disturbed by Anakin's ludicrous sleeping habits_.


	8. In High Places

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** What Obi-wan perceives to be resourcefulness, Anakin understands as a source of amusement.

* * *

 **In High Places**

Stretched onto the balls of her booted feet, Obi-wan struggles to reach her target. The object of her attention, a singular holofile is perched on a high shelf, out of arms length. After five minutes of balancing on her foot soles, she begins to feel the strain in her ankle muscles. While her body is flexible, she's no contortionist.

Falling back onto her heels, Obi-wan looks up at the shelf. She is pragmatic enough to realise tendon damage will not provide a solution. Recently dispatched from the temple infirmary, Obi-wan has no desire to visit again any time soon.

She could, theoretically use the Force to swipe the holofile off the shelf or leap into the air; however she considers casual application of one's Force abilities frivolous and unnecessary. Why use the Force, when there is always an alternative option?

Taking her eyes off the elusive holofile, Obi-wan scans her surroundings for a chair to stand upon. The nearby vicinity is unoccupied aside from a pair of small human younglings, both brown-haired boys seated at an adjacent computer terminal.

Turning her back on the shelf, Obi-wan meanders over to a vacant terminal, and removes the chair tucked under the desk. The younglings glance up from their computer screens as she passes by. Obi-wan ignores their curious whispers, remembering full well her own childhood. Inquisitive by nature, younglings will talk. With eight hundred years of teaching experience, Master Yoda has not managed to dissuade young initiates from gossip. There's no reason to assume she will fare any better.

She cannot entirely blame the younglings for their interest. A Jedi Master moving furniture in the Archives makes for an odd spectacle.

Setting the chair down before the holo-case, Obi-wan climbs onto the seat, using another shelf to pull herself up. Arms extended towards the high shelf, standing on her tip-toes once more, she is still unable to touch the holofile. Unwilling to resort to the use of Force abilities, Obi-wan springs down from the chair, and props it against the holo-case on a tilted angle.

Clambering onto the chair, she repeats the process of balancing on her soles. Reaching up Obi-wan successfully grasps onto the holo-file. Unseemly jubilation spreads through her, as Obi-wan's fingers clutch the spine of the text.

Her brief moment of elation is disrupted by a warning of her Force senses. Danger lingers close-by. Obi-wan's intentions to seize the holo-file off the shelf are undermined by the sound of stampeding footfalls and childish laughter. Peering down, Obi-wan witnesses the top of two brown-haired heads flashing past. The pair of younglings, oblivious in their game of chase knock the slanted chair.

"Wha..."

The chair wobbles to the left, and Obi-wan, balanced precariously on her soles, holofile in her grasp, is thrown sideways off the furniture. Obi-wan, spouts profane curse words, clutches the archive text and closes her eyes as she plunges to the floor.

Her descent is halted by strong, foreign arms catching her at the last moment. The Jedi Master's saviour adjusts their hold on her body, and Obi-wan's spare hand blindingly squeezes what she assumes to be, judging by the firmness, the person's shoulder.

"Obi-wan?!" A deep, and all-too familiar voice cries.

 _No it can't be...Of all the times!_

Obi-wan's eyes shoot open to meet the dark outer tabards of a person's chest. Lifting her chin, Obi-wan eyes settle upon the anxious face of Anakin.

"Obi-wan! Are you alright?" the Jedi Knight asks, concerned.

"I am exceptional," she mutters.

"What _were_ you doing?"

"Merely spending time in high places," she says offhand.

Anakin's brows crease. "What?"

Removing her hand from Anakin's shoulder, she raises the other, still gripping the holo-file. Anakin studies the object with a bewildered expression.

Sparing him the confusion, Obi-wan gestures to the now toppled chair, lying at the foot of the holo-case.

Anakin casts a glance at the chair, and back down to her. "You mean you were–"

"Being resourceful," she provides.

"Hold on shouldn't you be still be in the infirmary?" Anakin accuses.

"Am I to believe this is an interrogation?" she challenges.

"It is when you ambush me from above," Anakin returns.

"That was not ambush!"

A smirk tugs at Anakin's lips. "Oh and what would you call it? An _accident_?"

Cheeks flushed, the woman shifts in the Jedi Knights arms. "Anakin," she warns.

Obi-wan's admonition has no effect on Anakin's smug countenance. If anything it only serves to amuse him further.

"And here I remember you telling me accidents don't happen," he continues, much to Obi-wan's chagrin.

"A most unfortunate and rare occurrence I assure you," she tells him irritably. "Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate you letting me go."

Anakin merely tightens his hold on her body. "You're forgetting something," he says.

"And what might that be?" she snaps, not in the mood for jokes.

"A thanks for saving you from spinal injuries."

"Thank you," she says, grudgingly humbled.

Anakin grins. "That doesn't sound sincere."

"I expressed my gratitude, now let me down," she demands.

"I'll have to think about it," the cocky Jedi quips. Obi-wan squirms in his arms, no more comfortable than live bait on a fishermen's hook.

"Now Anakin!" she rebukes, conscious of the image they exhibit to potential passers-by. She is grateful for the seclusion of this quarter of the archive, and the barrier the holo-case provides from the eyes of their fellow Jedi. Her former padawan may have several positive attributes, but subtlety is not among them.

Anakin chuckles, relinquishing his hold on her body, allowing Obi-wan to slip out of his arms and gather to her feet.

Rotating her body to face him, Obi-wan glares at her former padawan. "I'm so glad you find this amusing," she huffs.

"You taught me not to always take things too seriously," Anakin informs her.

"Since when have I ever advocated that?" she asks, indignant.

"Leading by example," Anakin says.

"I don't ever recall finding someone's misfortune amusing," she chides.

"I didn't mean it like..."

"And I'm afraid I don't have time to linger here any longer," Obi-wan interrupts. She steps around Anakin, keen to put the topic to rest and begin her research for an up-coming reconnaissance mission.

The Jedi Master is hindered when Anakin seizes her wrist, prompting her to whirl on him.

"What is it now Anakin?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Anakin inquires, gesturing to the toppled chair. "Unless this is part of your plan to renovate the Archives. Though I don't believe Master Jocasta will appreciate your sense of interior design."

Obi-wan stalks past her former apprentice (and aspiring comedian), over to the fallen chair. Bending over, she situates the chair upright. When she's straightened up, she drags the chair with her vacant hand, to the computer terminal, all the while duly ignoring Anakin.

With her task completed, Obi-wan turns her back on the terminal, and the Jedi Knight, eager to depart.

"You're welcome," Anakin calls from behind.

 _One day Anakin I swear..._

Obi-wan deliberately pays no heed to his jibe, continuing on her way. Maybe, sometime in the far-off future Anakin will learn.

When shaaks fly.

* * *

 **A/N:** **gosh its been a while! i am not longer hibernating under a rock! i've also uploaded another old female!Obi-wan/Anakin one-shot called Linger as well if anyone wants to check it out. I am also working on the most recent chapter of The Ebb and Flow. anyways thank you so much to anyone who reads, reviews, favourites my fics, you guys are all awesome! (and i will never tire of highlighting it)**


	9. Not a Padawan

**Disclaimer:** Star wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this.

 **Summary:** Obi-wan disagrees with Anakin's teaching style.

* * *

 **Not a Padawan**

Obi-wan enters to a cacophony of cheers. The cargo bay is the last place Obi-wan expects to find Cody. She spies him amongst a rowdy assemblage of troopers, recognising Cody by both his distinctive Force signature and the yellow stripe on his armour. He stands to the back of the formation, conversing with one of his brothers.

"Cody."

The commander straightens and pivots his body to face the Jedi Master.

"Sir!" he acknowledges.

"What is going on here?" she inquires, gesturing to the crowd of troopers.

"Just a little bit of fun sir, nothing to be worried about," Cody informs her.

"Oh I'm not, I am merely curious about what is making everyone so lively," she says.

A slight guilty expression crosses his features. "Ah, perhaps it's best if you see for yourself," he says, stepping aside.

"Very well if you insist."

Curiosity piqued, Obi-wan moves forward. It is unlike Cody to be so avoidant. Perhaps he feared her disapproval for permitting the troopers to behave frivolously. Obi-wan does not begrudge the troopers for their entertainment. Force knows high spirits are in short supply these days. A slight respite can only be beneficial to their well-being. Considering what these men sacrifice in the name of the Republic, she sees no fault in it.

The trooper nearest to Obi-wan whoops directly into her ear, pumping his fist in the air. One of his brothers, who has noted her presence, taps him on the shoulder, and points to the Jedi Master.

The trooper tenses, and looks down at the woman. Obi-wan raises an eye brow. He, and his companion promptly step aside, and she inclines her head.

Squeezing her way through the mass of clone troopers, Obi-wan hears a high-pitched voice. "Read them and weep boys!"

Obi-wan's head snaps up at the so fast, she feels a kink in her neck. That voice can only belong to one person. Someone who should be fast asleep their quarters...

Slipping between the burly figures of troopers, Obi-wan manages to reach the front of the crowd. Ahsoka and Captain Rex are seated on upturned crates, with a third serving as a table between them. On the make-shift table is a deck of sabacc cards and an assortment of multi-coloured bottle tops. Both players hold seven cards in their possession.

Ahsoka grabs a handful of bottle tops from her pile and deposits them in the middle of make-shift table. "I bet ten bottle caps I have a Pure Sabacc in my hands," she boasts.

"Alright then kid, if you want to play such high stakes, I bet fifteen," Rex says, taking bottle caps from his own stash and adding them to the betting pile.

A murmur of anticipation ripples through the crowd.

"Are you sure you want to risk it Rex?"

"Every battle is a gamble commander."

Ahsoka's expression is smug when she lays her cards down. "Beat that!"

Rex's face is impassive as he places his own set of cards on the make-shift table. "I wouldn't speak too soon commander," he warns.

Ahsoka's blue eyes widen. "No way! That's the...

"The Idiots Array commander," Rex finishes for her.

Ahsoka gives him a petulant look. "Aww kriff!" she swears.

Their audience bursts into raucous laughter, and Rex chuckles along with them. Obi-wan, arms crossed and spine rigid is less than amused. _Gambling and swearing. Only Anakin's padawan would deem it sensible to engage in such past times_.

Ahsoka should be asleep in her quarters, taking advantage this time to rest. She may be a Jedi padawan, capable of manipulating her body's physiological systems through the Force, but she is still only in the stage of early adolescence. In Obi-wan's eyes she is only a child, and sleep is critical to their development.

The troopers fall silent as Obi-wan approaches the pair. Rex, upon catching her eye swiftly gathers to his feet, and Ahsoka follows suit. The youngling hangs her head, folding her left arm over her body to clutch her opposite wrist.

Obi-wan clears her throat. "Ahsoka, if I might have a word?"

"Yes Master," Ahsoka mutters.

Troopers clear a path for the Jedi as Obi-wan guides the padawan away. She will not chastise Ahsoka here, not amongst a congregation of clones. Ahsoka's effectiveness as a commander partly depends on having the respect of these men, and Jedi affairs are best kept private.

A lone trooper comments, "Gotta say General Kenobi's one strict Master. Too bad General Skywalker isn't here, at least he knows how to loosen –

The trooper is cuffed upside the head by one of his nearest companions. "Shut it bonehead. Do you want to be reassigned to maintenance?"

Obi-wan wonders what the verdict would be if Anakin were present. She doubts he would be stern. Her former apprentice has a rather unconventional teaching style. With all this excitement, Obi-wan holds a nagging suspicion that Anakin would encourage Ahsoka's misconduct by joining the troopers in their fun. _Anakin always loves to be in the middle of the action_ , she thinks dryly.

It is the thought of Anakin dealing out sabacc cards which motivates her to walk faster, leaving poor Ahsoka scurrying to keep up.

* * *

The pair happen across Anakin on their trek back to Ahsoka's quarters. Anakin looks surprised to see them traversing down the corridor. No doubt, questioning why his apprentice is not asleep in her quarters.

Ahsoka has not spoken since they left the cargo bay, and Obi-wan believes it to be an appropriate time for reflection. One's own conscious can sometimes be a far greater teacher than a Master.

Anakin acts as a buffer between the female Jedi and the hatchway, his large figure deterring their path. Obi-wan and Ahsoka are forced to halt before him to avoid a collision.

"What is going on here? Ahsoka why are you not in bed?" Anakin demands.

Ahsoka bites her lip and rubs her arm. "Umm I was, well uh..."

"Discovering the joy of new hobbies and sleep deprivation," Obi-wan interjects.

Anakin frowns. "New hobbies?"

"Ahsoka displays quite the aptitude for sabacc," she remarks.

"Sabacc?" Anakin echoes. The Jedi Knight turns his piercing gaze on the little togruta, and her shoulders slump.

"Um well you see, it kind of all started when I–

"Never mind that now, Ahsoka I suggest you return your quarters and make the most of the time you have left to get some sleep," Obi-wan interrupts.

Ahsoka lifts her eyes from the floor to the Jedi Master's. Obi-wan places her hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, directing her forward. "Go on young one, its late."

She disapproves of how Ahsoka's orange-skinned shoulder blades are left bare. Has anyone ever spoken to the girl about _decent_ attire? The Council had sworn assigning Ahsoka as his padawan would be good for his temperament, that the responsibility of training another Jedi would teach him both wisdom and much-needed patience. However given all she's recently witnessed, Obi-wan harbours doubts. Gambling, swearing, inappropriate clothing...sometimes she wonders if Anakin is too inexperienced to teach a padawan.

The little togruta keeps her head bowed as she bypasses Anakin, and swiftly disappears through the hatchway.

"Hey hold on–

Anakin makes to follow after his apprentice, but Obi-wan grasps his forearm. "Let her go. She needs rest, and we are needed on the bridge," she tells him.

Not even sparing her a look, Anakin wrenches his arm out of her hold, and storms off down the corridor.

 _Was it something I said?_

She sighs and shakes her head at his departing figure. Whatever peevish mood Anakin has allowed himself to be caught in, he better snap out of it. They can't plan an effective military campaign if he's not maintaining a clear head.

One sullen padawan is enough to deal with. No need to add a brooding Jedi Knight to the equation.

* * *

"Their frigates have a distinct weakness, along these turrets here..." Obi-wan trails off, upon realising her fellow General is not listening.

Across the blue holographic-readout of a Separatist frigate, Anakin is hunched over, clutching the edge of the holo-projector.

"Anakin?"

The Jedi Knight lifts his head and fixes her with a scowl. "What?" he barks.

"We were devising the best way to overcome the Separatist fleet," she reminds him.

Anakin waves a dismissive hand. "Go ahead and talk, it's not like you need my opinion," he says.

Obi-wan frowns. Her former apprentice has been uncharacteristically silent throughout the consultation. In most instances, Anakin is usually brimming with suggestions (and the occasional hair-raising scheme). Even if he is devoid of a plan, the Jedi Knight _always_ has an opinion and never fails to make his views known.

 _Something_ is bothering him, and it's impacting upon his ability think clearly.

She presses an icon on the holo-projector and the glowing layout of the Separatist frigate disperses.

"Alright what is it?" she asks.

"Nothing," he denies. The Jedi Knight refuses to meet her gaze, keeping his attention on the holo-projectors surface.

"We can't plan a campaign while you're being stroppy Anakin," she chides.

Anakin's head shoots up, and Obi-wan finds herself on the receiving end of a rather heated glare. His Force signature is melting pot of negativity...frustration, bitterness, resentment...where were all these gloom-ridden emotions coming from?

" _Stroppy_?" he bites out.

"Well you're certainly not being productive," she says dryly.

"You made it clear you don't want my input," Anakin retorts.

"Since when did I–

"After all you don't even trust me to deal with my own padawan," Anakin interposes, his tone clipped.

So that's what all this fuss is about. Anakin didn't appreciate her circumventing his authority as Ahsoka's teacher.

"I never said you were–

"Incapable of teaching a padawan?"

"Don't put words in my mouth," she snaps.

Anakin circles around the holo-projector, running his hand along the rim of its surface. She is given the impression of a predatory bird scrutinising their prey.

"Do you know what I think Master?"

"Oh go ahead, do enlighten me," she says, crossing her arms.

"You still see me as an unruly padawan," he says bitterly.

"I can assure you that is hardly the case."

An _overgrown_ padawan, perhaps.

Juvenile behaviour aside, Anakin has more than proven his capability as a Jedi Knight. He's a fine warrior, a prodigious pilot and a skilled tactician. She has never doubted his skills or intellect, but rather his temperament. The Jedi Knight has no sense of patience, compliance or humility, virtues crucial for any teacher to have, Jedi or not.

Anakin reaches her side of the holo-projector, and Obi-wan swivels to face him. "I'm not your padawan anymore. I'm a Jedi Knight in my own right." he asserts.

Against her better judgement, Obi-wan's expression softens. "Anakin," she says. "I know."

"Then why did you undermine my authority as Ahsoka's teacher? Why did you not trust me to handle the situation?"Anakin demands.

Obi-wan looks away, his words hitting a little too close to home.

Maybe she had over-reacted slightly. Ahsoka would not develop a gambling problem from a few good-natured rounds of sabacc, and blasphemous language was rife in the military.

"I apologise...I may have been overly hasty in my assessment of the situation. I guess I have not yet fully learnt to let go of my role as a teacher," she admits.

" _Overly hasty_? You haven't even explained to me what happened in the first place!" Anakin exclaims.

"Alright! Alright! I was wrong!" she cedes, throwing her hands up.

Anakin puts a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry Master, I didn't quite catch that."

"I was wrong to interfere," she says, irritated at having to repeat herself.

"Excuse me if I find it hard to accept your apology," Anakin fumes.

The Jedi Master massages her temples. To be overly concerned by such minor trivialities is quintessential Anakin behaviour. She's explicitly acknowledged her mistake, and he still endeavours on pursuing the subject when they have far more important matters to discuss. It is precisely his lack of discretion and forethought which leads her to doubt his ability to teach the next generation of Jedi.

"Anakin, must we really discuss this now?" she inquires, weary.

"Yes _we must_."

"Fine if you insist on exhausting the topic, should I contact the Jedi Council and inform them our plans to eliminate the Separatist blockade of Eriadu are to be delayed?"

Anakin scowls. "You just don't get it do you Master?"

When he paces forward, she takes an instinctive step back. "What don't I understand Anakin?" she asks quietly, trying best to ignore his disregard for personal space.

Ideally in her experience, it was better to let Anakin to have his spiel. Allow him to rave and then calm. Problem solved.

The Jedi Knight surprises her with Force-enhanced reflexes, as he closes the distance, trapping her between his body and the holo-projector. Obi-wan inches away, her back colliding against the holo-projector.

Lifting her chin, Obi-wan meets the eyes of her former padawan, shocked. Anakin's expression is strangely grim for one who has invaded her personal space. She expects him to be smug, at the very least.

Anakin leans over her. "I am not a padawan Obi-wan," he says fiercely.

"Your behaviour suggests otherwise," she retorts, trying to ignore her uneasiness at his close proximity. Behind her, she grasps the rim of the holo-projector all the more tighter.

It's all simply a game to Anakin. His invasion of her private space is merely an attempt to catch her off balance. Ashamedly he has caught her off guard.

"What must I do Obi-wan?" Anakin murmurs. "How can prove to you that I'm not a padawan?"

"You can move away for starters," she tells him curtly.

Deliberately contradictory, the Jedi Knight tilts his head down, and shifts closer still. Alarmed, Obi-wan raises her arms, and pushes her hands against his chest to keep him at bay.

"I'm serious," Anakin insists.

"And you believe I'm joking?" she exclaims. "Anakin! Really this–

" _Obi-wan_."

Anakin's tone has taken on a low edge, and she finds herself taken back by the sternness of it. How had they gotten from planning the campaign for Eriadu, to this? How had she allowed for the situation to get so out of hand?

The Jedi Knight's crystalline blue eyes seem unusually bright as they scrutinise her face. Or is that merely the lighting?

Anakin places his gloved hand on her shoulder, close to the exposed skin of her neck. Instinctively Obi-wan detracts her own from his chest, to squeeze the Jedi Knight's wrist. Her reaction does not faze him, unfortunately his mechanical arm has no pressure points she can exploit.

"Anakin," she warns.

"What must I do?" he repeats, his voice low. "Tell me."

The Jedi Knight reaches up with his idle hand to brush a lock of auburn of hair which has fallen over shoulder, and she catches his other wrist.

"I already told you."

"I'm not a padawan," Anakin says.

" _I know_."

Anakin's expression is unreadable as he inclines his head further. The scent of engine fuel and spices from his clothing permeates her nostrils.

Before she can open her mouth to speak, his chapped lips lightly graze her own. The Force around them is a psychic impetus of Anakin, all passion and wild-fire. Completely irrational. Entirely sincere.

His mechanical hand, freed from her loosened grasp, traces her cheek. His flesh hand, similarly released from her hold, slides up her palm, and the tips of their fingers interlink.

A tingle in her Force senses is her only warning. The blast door to their right hisses open, and Anakin with reflexes no ordinary human could accomplish, vaults away from her and the holo-projector.

Admiral Yularen strides into the room, hands folded behind his back in their customary manner.

Obi-wan wonders if he notes their unusual deep breathing and slanted body postures. If he suspects anything out of place...

"Ah Generals I see you have begun the briefing...thought it might of been more prudent to inform me of the change in schedule?"

The Jedi Master briefly meets Anakin's eyes, and quickly turns her attention back to Admiral Yularen.

His lips are pursed beneath his trimmed moustache.

Obi-wan nods. "Of course, you are right Admiral. I apologise. It will not happen again," she states, not only for the Admirals benefit.

Admiral Yularen deflates. "I suppose, we all make mistakes, even Jedi," he says.

Her insides involuntarily churn. The Admiral has no idea how _truthful_ his words are.

Aware of Anakin watching her closely, she adds, "Yes, well regardless we all must acknowledge our mistakes."

"Shall we commence the briefing?" the admiral asks.

"Of course."

All three position themselves around the holo-projector. She is careful to keep her attention on the holo-graphic display, and not Anakin, who has strategically placed himself across from her.

Anakin remains quiet during the meeting, only adding his input if inquired by the Admiral. It was, she could safely say, the first briefing, Anakin has ever allowed another person to direct.

Everyone must acknowledge their mistakes. She acknowledges hers. Anakin is most certainly _not_ a padawan.

He is a darn, reckless fool.

And she is no better.


End file.
